


A Disappointment in Three Sets

by hedgerowhag



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Concerts, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Panic Attacks, for anyone who is feeling like shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-09-02 11:40:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8666167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hedgerowhag/pseuds/hedgerowhag
Summary: Hux hates concerts; they are too loud, too chaotic, too warm and they never end well. Unfortunately for him, Ben loves every horrifying detail of them.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nereidlilies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nereidlilies/gifts).



> [(ง'̀-'́)ง](http://st-hedge.tumblr.com/)

There is nothing good about concerts: they are loud enough to make you temporarily deaf; people always shove into a singular mass underneath the stage as it gets too warm and humid; the drinks are overpriced and the bars run out of beer within the first hour; you can’t even hear the songs, either because of the screaming fans or the buzzing guitars. Most of all, they never end well.

There is nothing good about concerts and that is why Hux had made sure to avoid them since high school. But he has a duty as someone who has some very unfortunate (and mutual) feelings toward Ben Organa, someone who is fucking obsessed with concerts and enjoys every horrifying detail of them.

That’s why Hux is standing against the small barrier that surrounds the booth of the sound engineer in the midst of the crowded hall and swallows down his misery with the last gulps of his warm beer. Hux can hear over the swarm of voice the excited chatter of Ben’s voice as he squabbles with Rey and Finn. He can’t bring himself to be interested in the conversation; the sets of the opening acts are over and Hux can feel the crowds begin to shift forward, preparing for the crush.

While standing in the frigid cold of the winter evening in the dark alley outside the venue along with the Hyper Trio and the other concert maniacs, Hux overhead Ben say that he intends to shove through toward the barrier during the final set.

Ben had promised to stay with Hux the entire night, knowing how anxious he gets in crowds. Hux wanted to point that out while they stood outside. But he doesn’t want spoil the night for Ben.

Hux drops his empty beer cup onto the floor and kicks it between the feet of swarming teenagers. He can see the technicians running across the stage, adjusting the drumkits draped in black fabric and setting up the guitars on their stands out of sight of the audience. Rolls of cords are thrown from hand to hand across the stage. Hux can see the crowds begin to usher forward.

A wet smack of lips on his cheek makes Hux turn with a scowl. He can see Ben’s lopsided smile under the low pink and blue strobing lights.

“I’m really glad you came with me,” Ben says with a dopy grin when Hux rubs at his cheek with the sleeve of his flannel. “It’s no fun without you.”

“Yes, Ben, because we are having so much fun standing here for hours losing our sense of hearing,” Hux spits and leans back against the barrier of the sound engineer’s booth.

“Don’t be like that.” Ben is placing both of his hands on Hux’s left shoulder and resting his chin over his knuckles. His voice deafens everything else as it rumbles against Hux’s ear. “If you want, I’ll let you get on my shoulders so that you finally get to see something.”

“Ben, there are two inches—”

“Huh?”

“—Between you and me.”

Ben is abruptly shoved away but he is smiling. He leans in again to say something against Hux’s ear but before he can close the space, the lights cut out and the dark falls over the crowds.

The cheers rise like a howl and Hux flinches back. He can see Rey, Finn and Ben throwing themselves forward, screaming with the voices of the masses. Lights flicker on the screens over the stage and all movement rushes forward. Hux clings onto the railing behind him, refusing to give into the shoves of bodies beside him that try to throw him into the chaos.

The sound pours over and the floor vibrates with the thrums of the base. Lights flash from pink to blue, white, green and over and over in the same pattern. The lyrics are indiscernible as they are screamed over by thousands of voices crammed into this single space, the eyes of the swarm are concentrated on the pinprick figures on the stage.

Hux winces against the sound, trying to save himself from the worst of yelling and the needless volume of the guitars. He can hardly see Ben in the crowds that have swamped around him; Even with his height, he disappears with the slope of the hall. Hux can occasionally see the wave of his hands above the heads of the people, or the flash of the back of Finn’s head as he looks for Rey – she is right beside him.

All Hux can do is cling onto the barrier behind him and wait for a break in the sound and constant shoving as people force their way through the walls of bodies. The heat is rising even with the gusts of chilled air falling from the air conditioning and there is barely enough space to duck away from the humid clouds of breath and take a gulp of oxygen.

Hux closes his eyes, hands rigid on the railing, and begs for the music to fucking stop. He doesn’t understand why he had agreed to this; he hates crowds, he hates the animalistic way people behave when they are in swarms, he hates the constant loud screeching.

Suddenly, sound cuts away. There are cheers and clapping and the muted yellow lights fan over the masses. For a moment, Hux finds himself able to breathe. His ears are ringing and skull aching, but it doesn’t matter because if he wants to get out of this alive the worst is not yet over.

He pushes away from the barrier and shoulders between the blockades of people. Hux can feel the glares raking over his back as he shoves the crowds aside but it doesn’t stop him or bring him to care about how many feet he trampled over as he shouts for Ben.

The sudden screech of a guitar makes Hux stumble and trip over his own feet. He catches against someone’s shoulder and freezes when the light closes off around him and the music starts again. The screens glaze with psychedelic images and pink lights strobe.

Hux feels his throat constrict and whatever he was going to shout is choked off.

Turning to his left, Hux ducks down and barges through the crowd until he hits the far wall.

Hands flat on the flaking paint of the brick, Hux scrapes his nails into the rough texture of crumbling cement.

There is a tap on Hux’s shoulder. Someone is asking if he is alright. He ignores it, turns toward the back of the auditorium, and marches along the side where the crowds are thin.

The security guards at the main exit give Hux odd looks as he hurtles out of the doors and into the lobby where the cool air is blowing in and the merchandise vendors watch the doors with expectant anxiety. Hux doesn’t stop until he is standing on the curb of the sidewalk outside the venue.

The silence is ringing and Hux feels his throat clicks as he swallows the cold winter air down his itching, parched throat. His eyes hurt when he looks at the puddles that reflect orange from the streetlights. The sound of the passing cars is just a hush to his deafened ears.

Hux turns and walks into the alley beside the venue, blocked off by tour buses and trucks that haul the equipment. A gate that leads to the backstage entrance is patrolled by two security guards.  Hux can hear the pounding of the music as he stops beside it. He sees both of the men eyeing him, shoulders tensing under their hi vis coats.

Hux zips up his jacket and keeps on walking until he reaches an empty patch on the road where he can see through the rusted fence the desolate construction site that has grown beside the venue. There, Hux sits down on the curb and reaches into a pocket of his jeans where he finds a crushed carton of cigarettes and a lighter beside his keys and scrunched up bills.

The flint wheel burns Hux thumb as he flicks it, waiting for a spark to become a fire. He gets it on the fifth try and sighs when he pulls smoke down his throat. He begins to cough.

Hux’s feet crunch on the broken tarmac as he digs his heels into the soles. His head thumps against his knees, the cigarette dangles between the fingers of his outstretched hand. The chill prickles at the back of Hux’s neck and the ground shakes with the music.

There is quiet commotion in the dark alley. A helicopter passes overhead and cars judder in front of the traffic lights beyond this small pocket of quiet. Voices echo between the wall of the building and the parked vehicles.

Hux hunches forward when he hears steps approach. He turns the cigarette in his fingers and watches the embers begin to die.

Feet scuff beside Hux. There is a grunt as the orange lights of the streetlamps are blocked.

“You alright?”

Hux turns his head to face the source of the shadow. Ben is sat mirroring him: arms on his knees and head resting over them, his broad back hunched.

Hux nods and looks up to take a drag of his cigarette only to find that it’s out cold. The lighter is lying on the ground in front of him. Hux reaches out to pick it up but finds that his hand is shaking. The tremors are spreading up toward his shoulder.

“Here, let me help.”

The lighter is plucked up with a scrape. Hux tucks his arms back underneath his jaw and rolls the cigarette between his lips. The flint wheel strikes and a small flame is pressed against the charred end of the cigarette.

Hux sucks in a breath and exhales through his nose and watches the smoke role out and disperse in the night air.

“You cold?” Ben asks. The lighter is tucked into the pocket of Hux’s flimsy jacket; he overcompensated for the heat of the indoors.

Hux shakes his head.

“Mind if I sit closer?”

Hux considers for a moment. Then, he shakes his head again.

Ben shuffles; his side presses against Hux’s, burning hot even underneath the single layer of a t-shirt – his hoodie is tied around his waist. Ben places his hand on the ground behind Hux as if scared to touch but rests his head on his shoulder.

“Sure you’re okay?”

“Mhmm,” Hux hums and reaches up to take the cigarette from between his lips. The absence suddenly feels cold. Lucky he has Ben to warm him, big like an over affectionate dog that doesn’t always understand why you are upset.

“You could’ve told me you need to leave.”

Hux grimaces and bites around the filter with a little too much force.

“I don’t like leaving you alone. I mean—Unless you want me to. Just—I don’t like seeing you lonely.”

Hux takes the cigarette and bends it into two. The stub is flicked somewhere in the dark. “I didn’t want to ruin your night.”

Ben leans away. Hux can guess the look on his face: bewilderment. “You telling me that you need a breather is not going to ruin my night.”

There are fingers underneath Hux’s chin that nudge him to look up. He sees Ben, half hidden underneath the orange casted shadows, hair is sticky with sweat, clinging to his cheeks and forehead. Hux can see the same sheen on his neck and collarbone under the light.

“You telling me that you don’t feel right is not going to ruin my night.” Ben leans forward and Hux can feel his warm breath on his cheeks. “What will ruin my night is knowing that I ignored it when you were feeling like shit and I wasn’t there to make you feel better.”

Hux’s jaw aches with the frown that is fixed onto his lips. Why can’t Ben be like the others and simply let it be. Why can’t he just go back to the crowds and leave Hux to go home. Why does he have try and make things better.

“You got it?” Ben whispers. Hux can hear the tentative smile.

Hux tries to smile back. It come off a little weak. “Got it.” He nods against the fingers that hold his chin.

Ben smiles wider and kisses Hux on the top of his head. Hux can’t help how his smile becomes real when he feels an arm come to wrap around his shoulders and pull him close, rubbing his side as if to warm him.

“So,” Ben mutters against Hux’s hair, “how about you and I get a taxi—”

Hux yanks away. “The set isn’t even half done.”

“So?”

“Go back inside. I can wait here.”

Ben smiles, showing something on the line of fondness and bitterness. “Look, I know you can land a mean punch, but I’m not leaving you out here.”

“And I’m not letting you leave until the encore.”

Ben pouts and taps his fingers on Hux’s shoulder as he considers the options. Then, carefully, he asks, “Would you really rather not go back inside?"

Hux shrugs. “You can get to the front, I’ll just stand to the side.”

“Nah,” is all that Ben says before he stands and pulls Hux to his feet, dragging him down the alley at a sprint.

Ben keeps his hand linked with Hux’s as they go back inside the venue. He shoves the ticket stubs in front of the security guards’ noses and pulls Hux inside the hall. The warm air swallows around them with the humidity that clings like fog to their skin.

The crowds are raptured in the performance, swaying their arms under the deep blue wash of the stage lights. Like dots of tiny stars, the flashes of phones glimmer across the sprawl of the masses.

The last notes of the song ring out and Hux expects Ben to let go of his hand and dart to join the audience by the front barrier before the applause seize. But instead, Ben keeps their hand locked tightly as he leads Hux down the side of the auditorium where a strip of floor has been left empty except for the sparsely dotted groups.

They pause midway down the hall where the view is still decent but they are far from the commotion of the shoving crowds that are being suffocated in each other’s sweat. Ben doesn’t pull any further.

There is a brief intermission while the musicians change instruments, adjusting the tuning and volume. Then, like silence was never there, the crashes of drums and screeches of guitars fill the hall from the floor to the ceiling. It takes no time for people to start to climb onto each other’s shoulders, swaying drunkenly.

Hux isn't shocked by any of this as he watches the chaos unfold. He shouldn’t even be surprised that Ben participates in all of this; Ben has been climbing the shoulders of strangers since he was fourteen, getting his head cracked on the floor before it was even legal for him to turn up to gigs like this alone.

What shocks Hux is that Ben is stood beside him, smiling and rather content to remain at the side where parents mellowly wait for their kids or teenagers crawl out from the crush of the pits.

Outside of the shoving crowds, Hux finally appreciates the energy that the musicians put into the performance. Once the lights are no longer cutting through his eyes and the speakers are not directed at him, it actually becomes enjoyable.

The songs flashes by as if it had never even begun before the next one is announced with the mellow notes of a keyboard. The screens flicker in the dark hall like a reflection of the phones that provided the blinking starlight.

The musician’s voice spills through the hall like rainwater, soothing the roars of the earlier turmoil. Hux doesn’t know the lyrics and finds himself at loss when he tries to follow the words. But Ben knows them and he sings them as he slings his arms around Hux’s shoulders, holding him close and tight as he sways them both, murmuring the words against Hux’s ear.

Hux follows the step of the gentle dance as he watches the crowds sway their hands like arms of willows in a calm breeze. Their voices join together in an order of a sort, entwining in an anthem. Hux drops his head back against Ben’s shoulder and lets the sound take him over.

Ben sings the words like a lullaby against Hux’s throat, kissing him when the notes of the keys and the guitar take over where the words fail to carry the meaning. It feels like drifting in and out of a dream and Hux can’t help his smile when he turns to kiss Ben.

 

 

 


End file.
